iPhone, live transmission.

In yet another display of my gremlin-like ability to fuck over technology, I arrived at Transmission to DJ Jake Rudh spinning a killer set of songs, ample room to move and dance, and found the coolest possible shot that would sum up the night within thirty seconds of my arrival: A lanky, six-foot plus boy dancing his ass off to New Order's "Temptation", spins and kicks his leg as high as his head, black buckled shoe right in front of his face, back-lit by an amber halo from the outside streetlight pouring in through the front windows of Club Jäger . I whipped out my camera and took the shot only too see the red "Your battery is dead, suckah!" light flash back at me. Fuck.

iPhone to the rescue.


And iPhone, you're a convenient whore. You're picture quality sucks, but in a pinch I'll take what you give me.

Anyway, as I was saying, Transmission was great last night. The music was impeccable, probably the best setlist I'd heard in a long time, or at least since the David Bowie birthday party. And the drinks? They did not disappoint. Being as it is Minnesota, an early September evening can get pretty damn cold, so the whiskey felt good while I made my brief foray out to the smoking patio. My friends and I didn't last too long out there as the cold and great music playing inside conspired to make sure we devoured our cigarettes quickly.

Official aside: Is there anything better than the smell of a freshly lit cigarette on a brisk evening?

My imbibeage for the evening was light; a rail whiskey soda and a few pints of Pilsner Urquell, served by Angie, one of the most attractive bartenders in Minneapolis:


I curse iPhone's camera again. Let's just say that I planted my ass on a barstool and let the Blur and Joy Division and Bowie and Pulp be the soundtrack for my unabashed admiration.

Back to the review: Kids, Transmission is a night you simply must attend. Every now and again Rudh decides to throw in a theme night (butt rawk, 90s top 40, etc.) These are very hit and miss depending on your taste. Love for Journey aside, the standard post-punk, brit-pop stylings of Transmission are not to be missed. Even though I'm a die hard rock fan of the Springsteen-Hold Steady lineage, growing up in a Reagan America I listened to more New Order and Cure than the aforementioned Boss. There is something about the cacophony formed by guitar, synthesizer, and British voice that just gets me. I dunno, maybe there was something strange in New Ulm's public water supply, but I likes it, likes it, yes I do.


Night's Consumption:

Rail Whiskey Soda: 1 low ball
Pilsner Urquell: 2 pints

James Rockford Memorial Drunk Scale: .7 -Just being social.